


homemade

by artificial-id (mikkz)



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Cooking, Fluff, Hinata can't cook: the saga, M/M, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Twitter Prompt, honestl y, rated general but i mean there's some swearing??
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-25
Updated: 2016-01-25
Packaged: 2018-05-16 05:04:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,154
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5815321
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mikkz/pseuds/artificial-id
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hinata can't cook.  He makes Kageyama a home-made lunch anyway.</p>
            </blockquote>





	homemade

**Author's Note:**

> hey there friendo, hope ur havin' a good day.  
> this is my first time publishing a fic based around characters with canonical personalities, so i apologise for any mischaracterisations (pls alert me of anything I did wrong, so i can improve)
> 
> i did this for a friend on twitter who suggested that hinata's the sort of person to burn noodles, but kageyama would eat them anyway. and 'coz i'm a sucker for romantic cliches i did a whole home-made lunch scenario.  
> hope you enjoy dem kagehinas

Tobio wasn’t one for big, romantic gestures, but Hinata certainly seemed to be determined to change his mind on the matter.

Ever since they’d started dating (7 months, 8 days; he was counting), Hinata had made it his mission to embarrass the setter at every turn--from a surprise bouquet of flowers (weeds, actually; Tobio didn’t have the heart to tell him that though) picked off the side of the road before a movie date, to his latest and greatest scheme: custom-made, matching t-shirts (light grey with black crows printed over the front).

Tobio didn’t particularly like it (after all, it was incredibly embarrassing and always ended with Hinata calling him cute; that guy, calling _him_ cute) but the way Hinata’s face lit up made Tobio feel like Hinata was his own personal sun, beating rays of warmth on his heart. It was almost as great as volleyball; almost.

Whenever Hinata was planning a big, sappy, embarrassing spectacle, he’d get this look on his face—a distant, day-dreaming face—and become more airheaded than before. He’d walked into a wall a total of three times in this state so far (again, Tobio kept count) and almost walked to Tobio's class with him a total of four.

So when Hinata almost sauntered past the doors leading to the gym that morning, Tobio knew to prepare himself for another Hinata Spectacular™.

Hinata was fidgety and distracted throughout the entirety of morning practice.  He missed more receives than usual, jumped five feet in the air when Tobio called instructions out to him, and took five minutes to get his shirt on after practice was done. It was becoming obvious that whatever Hinata's plan involved, he was going to unleash it on Tobio soon.

When Hinata excused himself to the bathroom, Tobio nodded and agreed to meet him in their usual lunch spot (under the tree on the oval, away from the gaggles of girls pressuring Tobio to date one of them and the boys from Hinata's class that would quite literally pay Hinata to tell them who he was dating).   Five minutes into lunch, Hinata finally showed up, and did it; it being the sure death of Kageyama Tobio.

"Hey, Kageyama," Hinata mumbled between a mouthful of fried egg-rice, "I, uh.  Is your lunch good?"

Tobio grunted in response, "It's not bad."

"That's good.  Mine's nice, too," from the way Hinata was shuffling his rice around and the enormous pile remaining in his lunch box, Tobio doubted that.

"You, uh," Hinata was talking again, and while that wasn't particularly unusual, since he did about eighty per-cent of the talking in their conversations, the nervous stammering was reminiscent of when he accepted Tobio's confession, "You make your own lunches, right?  My mother makes mine."

"Yeah," Tobio nodded in confirmation, not entirely sure where this conversation was headed, "My parents are usually too busy to make me a packed lun-"

"I know!"  Hinata interrupted with a loud squawk, his usual pre-game match painted across his features as he glowed with heat, "T-That's why!  I, uh!  I made you some lunch!"

Tobio looked on in bewilderment as Hinata produced a second lunch box from his bag and presented it to Tobio like it was his life's pride and joy, glowing with the fury of a thousand suns.

"Please tell me w-what you think of it!"

Oh.   _Oh._  Feelings hit Tobio like a truck, and blood pumped into his cheeks like his face was trying to become a matching set with Hinata's.   His heart thumped in his chest and, oh my _god_ , he was crushing so hard on this dumb arse he wondered how he was ever able to hate him.

"O-Okay!" He stammered out around the lump in his throat and took the box from Hinata's hands hastily.  He popped open the lid and was immediately filled with the desire to take back his words and pretend he was full from his own lunch.

Right, he'd forgotten; Hinata's cooking was shabbier than his receives.   He'd had home economic classes with Hinata's before, and when it'd come to taste testing it was an honest-to-goodness miracle the teacher didn't throw up right there and then.  Hinata had burnt instant noodles, melted tofu into a substance reminiscent of ice cream and even once managed to burn bread so bad it disintegrated when it was lifted off the plate.   Tobio wasn't the best at cooking, but at least his report card didn't have an E for Effort.

Still...  

He glanced over at Hinata who's face was literally aglow, both with anticipation and excitement.  Shit, Tobio couldn't reject him; even if his life and well-being was at stake.  He'd seen Hinata cry before three times outside of volleyball and every single time it ripped his heart to pieces; if there was one person in this world that deserved perpetual, unbroken happiness, it was Hinata.  

Tobio glanced back down at the lunch on his lap; a sticky mess that was probably supposed to be stir-fry, littered with burnt carrots, piles—actual  _piles—_ of seasoning and something that was probably meat in another life.  It was a crude attempt.  

He took a deep breath, prepared himself for a few days of food poisoning, and scooped a heap of the bio weapon out of the box and into his mouth.   

It was chewy, dry and littered with more spices than Tobio knew the names of.  If Hinata had put any vegetables or meat it in, Tobio couldn't taste them over the pepper and chili—he was beginning to wonder if Hinata knew the meaning of the word "seasoning".  

Tobio swallowed hard, exhaled loudly and tried to control his gag reflex, "It's, it's good."

"Ahhh, really?!"  Hinata asked, positively vibrating with joy, "I know it doesn't look the best, but I was hoping it'd taste good anyway!  I tried to make milk curry for you since I know you like milk and curry but I kind of messed up and made this instead, but I'm super glad you like it!"

Tobio grunted as Hinata threw his entire body weight into his side, almost toppling them both over.  He glanced down at his boyfriend and almost regretted it instantly because honestly, Hinata could blind a man with his smile.   

Hinata lay there, splayed on the grass with his arms around Tobio's waist, the pure personification of sunshine; his lips pulled back tightly in a grin that took up at least forty per-cent of his face, his cheeks full and dusted with red and his eyes full of joy and a sparkling of happy tears.  

Tobio swore to God for possibly the fiftieth time since confessing that he was going to protect that smile forever, and then aggressively shoveled the contents of Hinata's home-made lunch into his mouth, promising not to regret his decision.

And he didn't regret it; not even on his fifth trip to the bathroom the next day.

**Author's Note:**

> ps: fuck you dean im not using chopchop


End file.
